Prying Eyes
by carpetinflight
Summary: Ginny's not ready to share Harry with the world.


Ginny braced herself as Professor Slughorn made his way between the brewing tables, his large round belly preceding him through the classroom. Everything about the man was offensive in Ginny's mind, no matter how helpful the "Slug Club" (an appropriate name, Ginny thought, since Slughorn himself was so repellent and slimy) could be to her future.

"Ah, Miss Weasley!" he said, leaning over her cauldron and peering at the thick green goop bubbling inside, "And how are we doing here? Everything in order, hmm?"

Gripping the marble pestle tightly in one hand, Ginny bit back a retort. It would do her no good to point out that the confusing concoction she was brewing should have been a deep blue in color. This man was her professor; it didn't matter that he only wanted one thing from her, and that was--

"How is my young friend Mister Potter doing these days?" Slughorn asked, in a voice that was just a little bit too loud, given how close he was standing.

"He's fine," Ginny bit out. She did not say, _Mind your own business and leave me and Harry alone_, or _He doesn't like to talk about his feelings but he makes up for it by being quite good with his hands_ or _Why don't_ you _date him if you're so interested?_ She just smiled up at Slughorn and ground the mortar and pestle together with vicious force.

"Do you see him quite often, then? There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, you know!"

"Yes, I know," Ginny said, focusing her eyes on the large mole on Slughorn's cheek so that she did not have to meet his eyes. "I'll be going, if I don't have too much revising to do."

"Well in that case, my dear--" He gave a false-sounding chuckle. "--you may redo this potion on Monday evening, instead of Saturday."

"What?" Ginny gaped at her professor, shock joining the brew of irritation and discomfiture bubbling in her stomach.

"You've utterly destroyed that ingredient, Miss Weasley."

She looked down at the pestle before her. Sure enough, what was meant to be a rough-hewn gravel of dried beetle eyes was instead crushed as finely as cake flour.

----------

"I wish I could just hex him!" Ginny said. Her breath made a little cloud in the chilly October air as they walked up the hill toward Hogsmeade, and she kept her hands stuffed deep in the pockets of her cloak.

Harry smiled at her in a sort of sideways way that would have made her heart skip a beat, if she weren't so angry. "There's always a portable swamp," he suggested, nudging her arm with his elbow.

Ginny huffed, but it turned into a laugh. "You've been spending too much time at the shop with George," she said. "Good thinking, though."

"I mean, really," Harry said. "What'd he do that was so awful?"

"He just--" Ginny struggled to explain. Slughorn had always been a bit like this, since the day she'd first met him on the train and he'd been so impressed with her hexing that he'd invited her to lunch. She remembered how he'd fawned over that oaf McLaggen, just because his uncle was someone important and well-connected. Recently, though, Slughorn's usual ways had taken on a different feel.

"He's always asking about you," she finally said. "It's as if all he wants of me is to get close to you, just because you're _Harry Potter_ and the Chosen One and the Boy Who Lived and all. It's creepy, and... and..." She couldn't even finish the thought, couldn't say just what it was.

Harry only shrugged. "Yeah, but that's how he is. Nothing new, is it?"

"Feels different to me," Ginny said, hunching her shoulders and frowning at the path beneath her feet. "Now that he knows I'm your girlfriend, it's all, 'How is Mister Potter?' and 'Any plans for the Hogsmeade weekend, young lady?' and it's just disgusting, like--"

In a rush, Ginny's thoughts caught up to her words, and she stopped in her tracks, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. "Wait. Is this what it's always like this for you?" she asked.

Harry kept walking for a few steps after she'd stopped, then turned and looked back at her from a position higher up the hill. "I guess." He shrugged. Ginny could see the village in the distance, framed between the slope of the hill and Harry's lean figure topped with messy hair. His face was red from the cold, but he didn't seem to mind it, reaching out one bare hand toward her as if to hurry her along toward Hogsmeade and away from the school and her worries there. "It's not a big deal, Gin," he said. "I'm used to it by now, anyway."

"I -- you are?" she said, staring up at him. Ginny could not imagine ever getting used to that -- to people she hardly knew coming up to her and asking about Harry, eager for any news of him just because of his name and his stupid, noble _death_. It was a day that Ginny wanted more than anything to forget, but instead she was forced to relive it constantly by Slughorn and his kind. "But - that's terrible."

Harry just shook his head and looked away, dropping his hand to his side. In two big steps, Ginny had caught up to him and grabbed his hand in her own. Squeezing tightly, she pulled him up the hill.

"C'mon," she said. "I have to go to the apothecary for Slughorn's stupid re-do, and I want to get it over with so we can have fun."

----------

_**beetle eyes - five knuts a scoop!**_ read the faded sign in the far back corner of the Hogsmeade apothecary's shop. Ginny hurriedly dumped a scoopful into a small burlap sack, spilling little black eyeballs on the floor at her feet.

She turned toward the counter at the front of the shop, her hand already dipping into her pocket and the jingle of coins there... and halted suddenly as she saw a familiar rotund figure in the street outside. Professor Slughorn walked with a slight waddle in his step, his waistcoat stretched tightly over his enormous belly and an unctuous smile on his round face, as he made his way unmistakably toward the apothecary's door.

"Oh, no," Ginny said, turning around suddenly and grabbing Harry's elbow with her free hand. In the other, she still held the sackful of beetle eyes. "We have to get out of here."

Harry laughed, looking startled. "Gin, I told you, it's--"

Ginny clenched her teeth and set her jaw, and something in Harry's expression changed. "All right," he said. "Let's go, then." He stepped deeper into the shop, guiding Ginny to a narrow door she hadn't even noticed between two shelves.

Harry tried the door, but it was locked. Within an instant, faster even than Ginny's eyes could follow, his wand was in his hand and sparks were flying from the knob. The door sprang open, and they stepped through into a dark and crowded storeroom. Harry shut the door behind them with a barely-audible click, then moved past her to open another door to the outside.

"What...?" she asked, blinking against the sudden sunlight and a bit stunned at how quickly he'd maneuvered their escape.

"Auror training," he answered, with that same sideways grin. This time, Ginny felt a warmth spreading inside her at the sight. She could never resist Harry for long, even if she wanted to try. "Are you going to pay for those?" he asked, pointing to the sack in her hand.

She looked down at the bag of beetle eyes. "Oh, right." In other circumstances, she might've just left the shop with them, but somehow it didn't feel right with Harry watching. Letting go of his arm, Ginny dug around in her pocket and pulled out a handful of loose change. Picking out five knuts, she dropped them on the floor just inside the door. "There," she said with finality.

Harry laughed, but let her pull him along, down an alley and toward the edge of town.

Past the row of shops and houses, Ginny broke into a run. She could hear Harry's pounding footsteps behind her as she raced uphill across a meadow full of brown autumn grass. As they ran they left Hogsmeade behind, where Professor Slughorn and his prying questions would stay, at least for a little while.

At the crest of the hill, Ginny stopped and let Harry catch up to her. A moment later he was there, with red spots on his cheeks from running in the cold, and his hair a windblown tangle.

"Awful lot of trouble just to be alone together," he said with a grin, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

"I don't have to share you with your hordes of fans out here," Ginny said, motioning to the grass and trees around them, but not looking away from Harry's bright green eyes.

"You know I don't care about that," Harry said, pressing his forehead against hers. "You're the only one that matters."

The bag of beetle eyes fell to the ground, forgotten, as Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. Neither of them spoke again for a long time.


End file.
